Welcome. What you will find here will be my random thoughts and reactions to various books I have read, films I have watched, and music I have listened to. In addition I may (or may not as the spirit moves me) comment about the fantasy world we call reality, which is far stranger than fiction.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Emily Dickinson: Dec. 10, 1830--May 15, 1886

I find Emily Dickinson's poetry to be fascinating, illusive, and allusive. Some of her poems just confuse and bewilder me while others are crystal clear, or so I believe. Some are very short and remind me of haiku, a favorite type of poetry of mine. Perhaps this is one reason I enjoy her poetry.

Let us deport -- with skill --Let us discourse -- with care --Powder exists in Charcoal --Before it exists in Fire.-- ED --

Sometimes I wonder if Emily Dickinson is a member of a that infinitesimally small group of true American mystics, for there appears to be an intense personal relationship between the narrator poet and the subject of her poetry, be it nature, another person, or the deity.

2 comments:

It is interesting that you cite Dickinson's birth and death dates. I rather imagine that she would have thought nothing problematic about either date. For her, life was the fascinating problem. Yes, in much her poetry she is intensely concerned with death, but I never get the feeling that it bothers her. Instead, it waits as the possibly pleasant summation of all that precedes it.